No scars to see here! | #PTSDchat
PTSD Survivor

No scars to see here!

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Saturday, June 17, 2017, 18:00


They look, they actually look when they find out that I have PTSI(D)!

I tell the persons who do this to “just stop it, it’s not visible, and, when you do that to me, it’s fu*king insulting!”


I told someone that I am dealing with PTSI(D) and they started this up and down staring thing. Asking me how I got it, what caused it, how I knew I have it and all sorts of other insultingly stupid questions as if this were some sort of a game show! As “Yosemite Sam
would say, “Danged idjit galoot!”


Remembering a memory of my father being threatened for trying to keep fools from burning down our house during their needs to riot is a vivid and frightening one for me! But as I watched it unfold, I knew my father could handle it, he had a lot of respect from the people of our neighborhood, and I think that is what kept the jackasses from burning down our entire neighborhood that night! He and my uncles and a few more men from the neighborhood patrolled all night, and I watched it all! The cops showed up a few times, but they knew the situation was under control because of my dad, so they just checked in a few time to see if they needed any help.


It’s funny how that event has such a negative effect on me now, it seemed to come out so well at least for us. But I guess it was the threat itself that messed me up inside. To this day, I can’t understand the stupidity of the mind that says to itself, “I’m pissed off, so let me burn down everything that I have to show them how mad I am!” jackasses aren’t even this stupid, at least they can walk down the side of a mountain with a back full of junk, and do it without falling! But humans? They come up with the stupid stuff!


I used to wonder what the secret was to being an adult; and from what I kept witnessing as a kid, I thought it meant that most of them were just stupid as hell!, I never wanted to grow up into one those adults! I couldn’t understand how a grown man could beat up on his wife and his kids, and then if another man looked at her, he wanted to pull a gun on him for doing it! I couldn’t believe that people could be so damned stupid, it scared me!


Before an event I’ve spoken of before took place, I dealt with this aspect. I had wondered, if to be an adult, I would have to become stupid? I used to cry about it at night. But I thought about it, my dad and mom weren’t stupid people, so how could I grow up to be like them, when I had to go to school with kids who were already acting like their stupid parents? I felt trapped, I felt like I was in a zone of no return.


This changed when my grandmother told me that she grew up when she wasn’t allowed to go to school. She said that her family taught her how to read and to write and the rest, she picked up along the way, taking math books from the trash that school kids threw away at the end of the school year. So she told me to go to school and to ignore the kids who didn’t want to learn and just suck in the information.


Her confidence in my abilities made me feel invincible insofar as learning was concerned. I could learn anything now, and if it as difficult, I got books from the library and practiced until I got it! Thanks, Nanna!


OK, back to the searchers! They don’t see the scars, so they can’t identify what it means to have injures without a visibility factor attached to them. In their minds, there ha to be a scam happening. I feel that they could probably have as much of a chance of having this issue as do I, since they seem so unwilling to admit that I can! Maybe that’s a bit ego-driven on my part. No it isn’t, it’s a keen observation, and I should be happy for my grandmother’s having pushed me to seek the knowledge to learn how to see it when it was in front of me!


If one wants to see my scars, they’d have to become energy without form, and manifest themselves as an useable entity to get into my mind to check out whether or not the injuries although not outwardly visible, are visible inside what we call our minds or our emotions.

I have often wondered what the mind looks like. I have wondered does it have a “look”? I don’t even know that what we call the mind even exists as it were, but it has an identifying set of letters to attempt to explain to ourselves that thing that seems so mysterious and far out our reaches. We can see the brain, it has mass and it has definition, but does the mind possess any of these qualities? Can the mind truly be scarred? Damaged to the point of no repair, or is it the neurological connections that collapse and prevent transference of information?


Try to see this from the point of view of an eight year old child, because that’s when I started asking questions about the mid and how it worked. I’d seen a movie where a man had been locked into a mental hospital by a Dr. who wanted something the man had, and to get him out of the way, he had him committed. From that point forward I started to wonder if the mind was just a mad up thing, since the man in the movie wasn’t “crazy”, or if there was just no real way to identify what it is or how it really operates.


I have seen the adverse and deleterious effects of “mental therapy” on the lives off family and friends, and I wasn’t all that impressed! I saw it take an avidly active academic and make him into a slobbering shell of a man, all because he wondered if education could be improved. It drove him to relentlessly seek a solution and he checked himself into a ward for a few days, but while there, the Dr. decided that his insistence on working on the problem was an indication of his having a mentally induced compulsive disorder that could best be treated with constant in hospital care.

Yeah, bullshat, he died there, from an overdose of prescribed meds that nurse misread!


I don’t trust someone who tells to me that they know better for me than I do for myself, it seems rather egomaniacal to me that someone who does not know a damned thing about me, can be so smug and predominant in their self-opinion of the abilities! To my way of thinking, no one, no organization or no ideology of the type, can be trusted nor easily accepted y individuals, groups or by communities, it just does not make much in the way of good sense to live under the whims of other persons or groups that portend to be better suited than anyone else to decide a person’s worth!


This sort of individual los of self-determination Is as devastating as the explosion of a sun or of a planet! 


Can, or should I trust anyone of these people? I want to get better, if that’s even a possibility, but I won’t give up my autonomy into the hands of someone who has nothing to go on as to what I’m going through other than a collection of symptoms that add up to diagnoses which have been named and voted into a book that has no basis in scientific research and results!


Want to see my scar? I can show it to you. It appears as beads of sweat when I think I have to leave my house. You can see my scar when my mind is racing so fast that I can’t sleep or think coherently and I’m around my house, trying to find a way to slow down. You can also se them when I have to suck down these damned pills that seemingly do nothing for me!


So yes, I guess I can show you my PTSI(D) scars; they look like medication bottles and a list of symptoms on my medical chart.


I guess I owe some people an apology.

Not that they’ll ever get it!


Peace of mind, body, spirit and ideas that make you self-empowered, my friends.




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